yuna hair studio

His wings were aching and threatening to snap, but he forced himself to his feet and returned to the sky. He took after Ingram, once again attacking him from behind. The two of them crashed atop the edge of the arena, overlooking the crowds. It was little more than a cement lip encircling the arena, offering some protection from the sun and the weather. The two got to their feet, both bruised and exhausted, with the spectators cheering as they spotted the combatants overhead.

The two of them faced each other with their swords raised. They locked eyes, feeling each other out, and then, without a single word needing to be said, they clashed. Valia’s blade came towards Noah like a volley of arrows, as if she was simultaneously attacking from a dozen different points and angles. Noah fended off her attacks, powering through the hindering weight he felt on his limbs, but just barely. Such rapid movement was a challenge, as it felt like he had cinderblocks hanging from his limbs, and an invisible bungee cord linked his blade to his chest, making every reach and swing an ordeal. On the other hand, Valia’s attacks were slower than usual, but clearly, she had regained most of her strength. It wouldn’t be long until she regained her original strength.

Noah continued punching the bag in her place. “Since when has it ever been fair? When I was in Handent, I fought a Profane who forced me to fake my death in order to escape, and another captured me like a fly in a web. In Welindar, the battle was lost because I failed to kill Kaisen before he could transform. This is the struggle of fighting against the Profane, the struggle of being outclassed and overpowered. In this war, surviving with just a bruised ego is victory enough. You stood up to that monster, you fought, you survived.